


They Say The World Was Built For One

by Naiesu



Category: The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Alternate Universe - Theatre, M/M, horwell is there, they despise each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7252075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naiesu/pseuds/Naiesu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Link looked at Sheik, trying to stifle his scowl into something neutral, and clutched his script in a fist. Sheik turned to him, but his frown had become a cold smile. Almost challenging.</p>
<p>“Looks like we’re working together, <em>partner</em>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Say The World Was Built For One

“You’re joking.”

Horwell turned his attention to Link, but in the wake of his excitement, Link’s incredulous look did little to nothing. He held up the script, waving it around. “This is perfect! Our two main characters, unable to get along in the beginning, but by the end of the play—“

“We know what happens at the end,” Sheik said, looking just as frustrated as Link felt. “Why him?”

“Why _me?_ ” Link sat a hand on his chest, smiling at the absurdity of the situation. “Why _you._ This is ridiculous. I’m not playing your love interest.”

“Then hand in your script. We don’t have all day.”

“Why don’t you if you’re so opposed to me being the lead? There’s plenty of other people dying to take your place.”

Sheik laughed, but it was hollow. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? To watch me walk away so some woman vying for your attention could get a chance at sucking your—“

“See?” Horwell clasped his hands together, still smiling. He nodded, as though their actions had only confirmed his decision.

Sheik started to complain, lips parting in protest, but Horwell was already turning his attention to other actors. Link took a steadying breath. He was going to have to play pacifier, as much as it pained him. If they were going to be forced to work together, the least he could do was _try_.

He looked at Sheik, trying to stifle his scowl into something neutral, and clutched his script in a fist. Sheik turned to him, but his frown had become a cold smile. Almost challenging.

“Looks like we’re working together, _partner_.”

Link smiled back, pretty with threatening undertones, and walked closer. To anyone else it would’ve looked like the two were finally getting along. “Looks like it.”

“You know what that means.” Sheik held up his script when Link got close enough, tapping his chest just shy of too rough. “We’re stuck with each other. Practicing lines and scenes and sweet, tender kisses.”

That threw Link for a loop. He had forgotten just how much romantic garbage was actually in the plot, and thinking about how it would look to the audience when he and Sheik kissed tugged his lips back into a frown. Crappy and strained. Sheik may be a good actor—as much as it pained Link to admit it—but good acting couldn’t assuage years of loathing.

But he also knew Sheik was just trying to get him to back out, and he refused to step down from the main role.

He smiled, softer this time, and Sheik pursed his lips, irritation plain on his face. “I can’t wait.”

“Fine.” Sheik straightened his back, opening his script with an agitated shake of his head. He was all business when he spoke. “We’ll have to agree on a time and place to practice with each other, since the bulk of our parts are spent together. Given the option I’d like to practice every afternoon, or at the very least every other day, depending on your skills.” He flipped through the first few pages, skimming their lines. “We also need to decide who gets what part, since Horwell—“

“Woah woah woah.” Link was a second away from fisting the scarf around Sheik’s neck and swinging him around. Maybe brute force would beat some sense into him. “There isn’t any deciding. I’m the lead.”

“There isn’t one singular lead.”

“I’m the man.”

“You don’t even know his name.”

Link flipped open his script, placing his finger against the name he found at the top. “Akakios.”

“You pronounced it wrong.”

“Does it matter?” Sheik nodded, but Link continued like he hadn’t seen it. “It’s just a name. I can learn it no problem. But I get his part.”

Sheik raised his eyebrows, looking for all the world like he had done this a thousand times before and hardly had the patience to do it again. “Why is that.”

“Because you’re,” Link gestured to him with a vague flick of his wrist, “Small.”

“And you with your tall frame and wide shoulders are the reason I should be the woman.”

“Yes.”

“I’m starting to understand why you don’t participate in class debates.”

Link pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off his oncoming headache. “What reason do you want?”

“Something better than that! How about I start? I should be Akakios—do you hear that? A-ka-ki-os—because I got chosen for this part just the same as you; there _is_ no woman now that it’s out of the two of us, and my stature means nothing, so your one and only justification is a flop; I know the, albeit tentative, plot of this play and everything being the lead entails; frankly I’m better at this than you—“

“Alright alright!” Link snapped, grinding his teeth together. Just looking at Sheik was getting on his nerves. “If you want it that bad, take it.”

“You’re giving up?”

“What, do you want a signed declaration? Just take it. I’ll be,” He glanced down at the list of names under his fingers. People started drifting away around them, and Link only then noticed that they’d been dismissed, “Xanthe.”

Sheik stared at him in silence, ignoring the people filing from the room. After a few seconds he picked up his bag from the floor, and slung it over his shoulder, tucking his script away. He turned and started following the crowd out. “You can have it.”

Link took a deep breath, sucking his lips in between his teeth and letting his gaze drift to the ceiling. He was going to scream. He was going to scream, or he was going to deck Sheik. Both options seemed pleasing.

When he dropped his gaze again, he saw that Sheik had stopped and turned to look back at him. Amusement hung in the sneer on his face.

“And before we start practicing, ask Horwell for a name you can actually pronounce.”


End file.
